


Love Lessons

by sylvermyth



Series: Teaching Love [1]
Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Awkward Riku, M/M, Teaching, Tropes, teaching au, this is seriously going to be cheesy and tropey and awkward af
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-14
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-14 23:09:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8032657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvermyth/pseuds/sylvermyth
Summary: Riku is the socially awkward math teacher.  Sora is the new PE teacher.  Riku is instantly smitten, even as he embarrasses himself by spilling his coffee on Sora's shoes.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is entirely self-indulgent, but I thought I would post it anyway.

Riku didn’t see the young man approach him, his attention focused instead on his lecture notes and coffee, nor did he hear the low “excuse me” past the music in his ears, so it wasn’t until there was a small tap at his shoulder that he looked up, starting. He pulled at his earbuds as his vision was assaulted with brilliant blue eyes, a sprinkle of freckles, and unruly brown hair. He realized that the plump lips had formed a question.  
  
“I’m sorry, say again?” Riku adjusted his glasses to hide his sudden embarrassment, the flutter of shyness that had climbed into his throat. He tamped down on it as quickly as he could.  
  
“I asked if you work here, too?” Blue eyes flicked down at the formulas scrawled over the pages Riku was holding—trying not to clench them in his nervousness.  
  
“Ah, yeah. Maths.”  
  
Blue Eyes brightened. “Awesome! Me, too. Though, I’m not so good at math.” He offered a sunny smile. “I’m Sora. Mr. Niwa to the students.”  
  
Riku raised an eyebrow. “The new PE teacher?” He glanced up and down Sora’s compact form, the basketball shorts and the Adidas t-shirt. Tried to pretend that he was ensuring the other was athletic, and not checking him out.  
  
“Yep, that’s me! Hey, so, uh—” Sora bit his lip, and Riku found his eyes drawn to it, his heart racing. “I didn’t catch your name,” he prompted.  
  
“O-oh. Right. Riku. Riku Archer.”  
  
“Nice to meet you, Riku.” Sora held out a hand, and Riku fumbled to accept it, spilling his coffee in the process. He let out a noise of dismay at the same time that Sora exclaimed “Oh no! I’m sorry!”  
  
“It got on your shoes,” Riku muttered, biting back a curse. “I’m so sorry.”  
  
Sora stepped back, looking down at his feet and the puddle of coffee that stood between them. “It’s okay, it’s just coffee—oh man, I didn’t mean to make you—look, I can buy you another one!”  
  
Riku glanced at Sora over the rims of his glasses, and hoped he hadn’t turned red with embarrassment. “It’s fine, it’s not your fault.” He bent and picked up the empty paper cup, and then gathered his lecture notes. Another glance at Sora, who wore a sheepish expression. “I guess I’ll just…” he gestured at a nearby trash can with the cup and turned to throw it away.  
  
Sora trailed behind him hesitantly. “You sure I can’t get you another coffee? I’ve heard the machine in the faculty lounge is awful…”  
  
“It is,” Riku agreed, his voice curt, even though he hadn't meant it to be. He tipped the cup into the trash, thinking. “Well.” He turned back to Sora, schooling his voice. “Maybe I can take a rain-check on the coffee?” He was just being friendly, he told himself. Nothing selfish to it. He fiddled with the corner of his notes.  
  
Sora grinned, and Riku found that had a strange effect over him, like being punched in the gut, and liking it.  “Sure thing!”  
Riku smiled tentatively. “Okay.”  He glanced at his watch, more for an excuse to escape than to actually check the time.  “I better head to class.”  
  
“Hey, wait!” Riku paused, to see Sora still with that sheepish expression.  “I mean, I wanted to ask and then your coffee spilled and then—well anyway, I forgot where the faculty room is, so I was hoping you could point me in the right direction.”  He ran a hand through his hair, perhaps a nervous gesture. Riku tried not to read into it as anything more than embarrassment for poor memory.  
  
“Uh. Yeah. It’s—I mean, I can take you there, it's on my way.”  
  
“Great!” The bright look on Sora’s face made Riku’s stomach flip again.  
  
“Yeah.  Sure.” It came a little choked out, and Riku forced himself to take a breath before adding, “Follow me.”  
  
“So, how long have you been teaching here?”  Of course Sora would be talkative.  It was charming, and yet…  
  
Intimidating.  “This is my third year.”  
  
“Did you teach anywhere else before?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Me neither.  This is my first gig, I’m kind of nervous.  But excited!  Hey, where did you go to school?”  
  
“RGU.  Here.”  Riku let out a low sigh of relief as they came to the faculty lounge.  If he wasn’t with Sora, he wouldn’t be embarrass himself any further.  Sora wouldn’t be able to tell that Riku was interested in him after only a handful of minutes in his presence, and Riku could retreat into the sanctuary of predictable, ordered numbers.  
  
“Thanks, Riku.  You know, I went to RGU, too!”  
  
Riku’s eyes dropped to his lecture notes; he creased a corner of the top page.  It was a clear invitation for conversation, and yet he found himself at a loss for words. “I…”  
  
“Oh, right!  You were headed to your class already, weren’t you?  I’m holding you up, aren’t I.  I’m sorry, I’ll let you go, but we should talk more later!”  
  
“…Right.  Yeah.  Later.”  Riku wondered if he’d be able to manage more than single-syllable words later.  
  
Probably not.


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is painfully awkward, I hope you love it as much as I do lmao

When Riku had been in high school, he’d heard others talking about the ‘hot’ teachers, and, if he were to be honest, he’d been more than happy to contribute to the conversation, back when he used to hide his awkwardness behind an over-confident mask.  Back then, it had never occurred to to him that said teachers might overhear, or what they might think.  He’d been more worried about lauding some teacher’s breasts, pretending that he wasn’t more interested in the social studies teacher with the neat goatee.  
  
Now he stood on the other side of it.  After two years of teaching, he’d started to recognize the signs: flushed cheeks, bright eyes.  Students staying longer after class, asking questions that Riku knew they had answers to— _the quiz last week had that question, and every one of them had gotten it correct_.  On top of that, the overheard lunch and hallway conversations.  
  
It was—amusing, he supposed.  
  
Another name had joined Riku’s in the overheard conversations—one he heard more than his own, since the students weren’t talking about him—Mr. Niwa, the PE teacher.  Riku found himself torn between wanting to join them and wanting to tell them off, and of course, did neither.  
  
Nor did he tell Sora, himself, his observations, because whatever false confidence he’d had in his younger years had disappeared, and in fact, he did his best to avoid talking to Sora.  After all, stuttering and fumbling just didn’t make for scintillating conversation.  
  
Two weeks into the new school year, and Riku had managed to skirt any further interactions with Sora, sometimes just barely, after trying to sneak glances in the lunch room, or after school, in the parking lot. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get away with it forever, but in the meantime, tried to think of topics of conversation.  Something that wouldn’t end with his foot in his mouth, preferably, though that narrowed it down a lot.  Like, maybe he could explain the Pythagorean Theorem to Sora.  
  
Sure, that would be useful.  
  
He thought about it again as he graded the latest batch of homework. Really, he wasn’t sure he even wanted to be friends with Sora, when he was already smitten with him.  It would only lead to disappointment if the real Sora didn’t match up with his first impression, or, worse, if he did, and Riku fell well and truly in love. That anything would ever come of it, in the latter case, was out of the question, and he realized he should just put it from his mind.  Pretend that Sora didn’t exist and wasn’t a walking dream.  
  
Of course, that was impossible.  
  
There was a knock on the ajar classroom door, and Riku said “Come in,” without looking up.  
  
“So this is where you hole up.”  
  
Riku started, looking up to see Sora.  He stood, a shoulder leaned against the door frame, his hair the same delightful mess that Riku had first seen.  Whatever response Riku might’ve had got stuck in his throat.  
  
“Aqua said you hide in the classroom a lot.”  
  
Riku shrugged, looking back down at his stack of assignments.  “It’s quiet.  Students can find me.”  
  
Sora nodded.  “Hey, so I was wondering, could I get you that coffee I owe you?”  He gestured at Riku’s desk.  “When you’re done, that is.”  
  
Riku turned the green pen over and over in his hand, avoiding Sora’s eyes.  “Uh.”  Was his face pink?  It felt warm. “Uhm.”  It was just an invitation between colleagues.  Breathe.  
  
Sora was giving him a considering look.  “If you want to hold off on it, that’s okay.  The offer stands until you take it.”  He smiled, and Riku swore his heart stopped.  
  
Riku found himself shaking his head.  “No.”  Realizing Sora might think he was turning the offer down altogether, he amended, “I mean.  Today is fine.”  His pen slipped through his fingers and clattered on his desk.  
  
Sora’s smile widened.  “Great!  The place across the street, that’s where you got your coffee before, right?”  
  
Riku blinked.  “Yes.”  He glanced down at his pile again.  “I.  I can finish this later.  I’ll just—I’ll just grab my bag.”  He busied himself with the task, stealing small glances at Sora.  
  
“Okay.  Oh!”  Sora stepped into the room.  “Is it alright if I borrow a pen?  I forgot  something and just remembered, and if I don’t write it down, I’m going to forget again.”  He brushed a tuft of hair behind an ear.  “And a piece of paper?  I don’t usually carry any with me.”  
  
Riku couldn’t help a lifted eyebrow.  “PE teachers don’t take notes?”  He instantly regretted the comment.  “I didn’t mean—I didn’t mean it like that.”  
  
Sora’s grin turned lopsided as he stopped in front of the desk.  “I’m not very organized.”  He glanced down at the neat arrangement of Riku’s desk.  “I think that’s why I was never very good at math.”  
  
“It’s not—it’s not a requirement, but it does make things easier.”  Wow, he’d strung together a full sentence.  He tried not to let it get to his head, and instead gestured at a cup of pens and pencils, and, next to it, a stack of post-it notes.  “Help yourself.”  
  
“Thanks!”  Sora reached for a pen—and knocked the whole thing over, sending pens and pencils across Riku’s desk.  “Ah, no!  Stop!  Oh man, I am so sorry, I just have really bad luck with cups, don’t I?”  
  
“It’s fine.”  Riku started gathering the pens, dropping them back into their cup.  His hand brushed Sora’s, busy with the same task, and he jerked his hand back.  And stopped.  And tried to cover the gaffe by brushing a stray lock of hair behind his ear.  He was pretty sure he failed.  
  
The look that flickered across Sora’s face confirmed his fear, though Sora didn’t say anything.  Instead, there was an uncomfortable silence as they finished gathering the fallen pens, and then Sora jotted down a note on a post-it, before dropping it into a pocket.  
  
Riku stood awkwardly, his bag resting on his chair.  
  
Sora flashed him another disarming smile.  “Ready?”  
  
“Yeah.”  He hoped Sora didn’t notice the white-knuckled grip he had on his bag.  
  
The short walk to the cafe was filled with Sora talking, about what he thought of his position, his student-teaching, RGU—Riku was surprised by how much he managed to cover, and even more, that he seemed content with Riku’s short, monosyllabic responses.  Riku had quickly decided he could listen to Sora for as long as the other was happy to talk.  
  
Riku wondered how long Sora would allow him to shadow him like this, if they hung out more.  He wondered if he’d be able to do it, without making an idiot of himself.  
  
He was still listening to Sora, trying to ignore the dark voice in his head telling him he’d mess it up, when they took a seat in the little cafe, each with a coffee in front of them.  
  
“So,” and now Sora was frowning, his brow furrowed.  “Is it just me, or have you been avoiding me?”  He looked at his coffee.  “Like, I feel like…maybe you don’t like me.”  Blue eyes back on Riku.  “I mean, if you don’t, that’s okay, but I just kind of thought, because…and you jerked away when I accidentally touched your hand.”


	3. Part 3

Riku looked down at the mug between his hands. “I—” He stopped, his mind stalled. Of course he didn’t dislike Sora, but he also couldn’t confess he’d been reduced to a bundle of nerves reminiscent of his first crush. “I’m not good with new people.” There. It wasn’t a lie, exactly.

Sora cocked his head, studying him. “But students…?”

Riku closed his hands around the coffee mug. “Students are different. They’re kids. It’s work.”

“I see.”

When Sora didn’t say anything else for a long moment, Riku chanced a glance up. Sora was chewing on his lip. “It’s not—I—”

Sora spoke a beat after him, his words almost lost in Riku’s own: “But what about—”

“Sorry.” The said it nearly in unison, and Riku added “Go ahead.”

Sora shook his head. “No, what were you saying?”

Riku took a breath. “I don’t mean I don’t like the work. Teaching is—well. I like it. I like the kids.”

Sora nodded, a lopsided grin spreading over his face. “You don’t go into teaching if it’s not what you really want to do. I know.”

Riku looked at a point just behind Sora’s shoulder, avoiding eye contact. “Yes, that’s true.”

Another silence began to stretch between them, until Sora broke it. “I was going to say, what about coworkers? Is that more like work? Do you ever kick back drinks with anyone outside of work?”

A small laugh escaped Riku’s lips, and he gestured at the two mugs of coffee. “You mean, like this?”

Sora rolled his eyes, and shook his head. “No,” he dragged the syllable out, “This is me making up for making you spill your coffee, and also thanking you for your help. I meant something a little stronger.”

Riku was probably imagining the twinkle in Sora’s eye when he said stronger. He meant alcohol, of course, not…not stronger relationships. “That was my own fault,” he muttered.

Sora propped his forearms on the table and leaned closer to Riku. “Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t want to buy you another.”

Riku dropped his eyes to the table. “…Thank you.”

Sora beamed. “Of course!”

“I don't, usually. See the other teachers outside of work, that is.”

“Oh.” Sora pursed his lips. “I suppose you need a break from it sometime, right? Have a life outside of the classroom?”

“Yeah, sort of.” Riku fiddled with the corner of his napkin. “But—” But he wouldn't mind if it was Sora. “I could change.”

Sora’s face lit up, and Riku’s heart melted. “That would be—yeah!”

“I’m...not really good in a group,” Riku added. It was true, though he wasn’t sure that he hadn't said it out of some selfishness, to have Sora to himself. Not that he'd have the confidence to do anything.

“That's okay!” Sora sipped at his coffee. “You know, if we’re going to hang out again, I hope I don't have to wait a whole two weeks again.”

Riku was sure his face had reddened. “I’m sorry.”

“Well,” Sora drawled, “you could apologize by buying me a drink this weekend?”

Riku brought his coffee to his face, not really drinking it so much as trying to hide his face. “I.” He ran through his weekend plans: grading, a visit to his parents...anything else could be rescheduled. “I can't Friday. Saturday?”

“Saturday, yeah, it’s a date!”

Riku was glad he’d placed his coffee back on the table, or it might've slipped through his fingers. He gaped for a split second before he realized it, and snapped his mouth shut without saying anything. An iPhone appeared in front of him, next to his coffee. It had a red case, he noted, and “New Contact” was on the screen.

“Here, put your number in. In case we need to get in touch.”

Riku nodded and fished his out—sleek black and silver and glass, sans case—and tapped the screen until it also displayed the new contact screen, and slid it across the table. Wordlessly typed his information into Sora’s phone.

“Living dangerously, without a case, I see,” Sora teased, trading Riku’s back for his own. Their hands brushed in the exchange, and Riku forced himself to ignore it, this time.

“I haven’t found one I like yet.” He pocketed the phone, frowning.

Sora tapped the side of his phone against the table. “Case first, aesthetics later. Don’t learn it the hard way, like I did. Once I dropped my phone without realizing it, and then ran over it with my bike.” Riku grimaced in sympathy. “Yeah, so, I always get a good case whenever I get a new phone.” Sora reached back and ran his fingers through his hair. “Anyway, you don’t want to hear a lecture when you’re giving them all day, I’m sure.” He glanced down at his phone, checking the time, and then back up at Riku. “I have to get going.” He pocketed the phone and downed the rest of his coffee. “Remember: Saturday! Don’t let me down!”

Riku returned Sora’s wave as the other stood up and went out the door. He watched Sora cross the street—it was a nice view, after all—as he pushed down his hopes that the word “date” had meant anything more than a date on a calendar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Riku playing Rick Astley in the bg* NEVER GONNA GIVE YOU UP, NEVER GONNA LET YOU DOWN!!!


	4. Part Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Note: Riku uses the word “accelerate” in the scientific sense, as in, a change of speed, be it an increase or decrease.**

Numbers were easy, for Riku.  Those weren’t the problem.  It was calculating the time until his date—meet-up, he amended—with Sora that was the problem.  Time marched forward in uniform velocity, though sometimes he swore it accelerated—sometimes faster, sometimes slower—and his mind tried to formulate derivatives so that he could calculate the time more accurately.  
  
Which, of course, was silly.  Time didn’t accelerate.  
  
He tried instead to focus on the simpler equations he laid out for his students. If he didn’t, he would probably find himself caught between being excited and being terrified about the upcoming weekend.  
  
He supposed he could probably calculate the gravity between him and Sora, too, but that would be entirely fruitless, and anyway, he hadn’t studied enough Physics for that.  If that even fell under the realm of Physics.  
  
And it wasn’t a date.  
  
Sora greeted him throughout the week.  In the halls and the parking lot and the lunch room, and sometimes they got a few words in.  Sora stopped by Riku’s classroom to say good bye in the afternoons, and that made Riku a little dizzy, that he would seek Riku out.  
  
Friday, Sora poked his head in the classroom with his usual smile.  “It’s the weekend, so don’t stay too late!”  
  
Riku glanced up from his work, unsure how to respond. Weekends weren’t really special.  Except this weekend was; he fiddled with his pen.  “I’ll try not to.”  
  
Sora stayed just inside the door.  “Don’t forget about tomorrow!  You know, maybe you should pick the place, since I’m still getting used to the area.”  
  
“Oh.  Right.”  Well.  That was great.  Riku wondered if Sora was expecting them to go to a bar, or if he’d be satisfied with something more low-key.  
  
Sora crossed his arms, looking a little smug.  “If I don’t hear from you tomorrow, you won’t hear the end of it!”  
  
Riku let out a something like a small laugh.  “I won’t forget.”  
  
Sora beamed.  “Good!”  He gave a salute and departed with a, “See you then!”  
  
Riku waited until Sora was clear of the room before pulling his phone out to text Namine.  She would know better than him where he could take Sora.  
  
O.o.O  
  
It wasn’t a date.  
  
Riku had reminded himself of this uncountable times, and still he found himself agonizing over his appearance.  Did he pull his hair into its usual bun, or a more relaxed ponytail?  Or leave it down, for a change?  He was sure if he left it down he would spend the whole night pushing it behind his ear, but on the other hand, he could hide behind his fringe.  Did he stick with his usual button-up, like at work, or go for something more casual?  He’d only ever seen Sora wearing t-shirts and athletic shorts and pants, but would he dress up for their outing?  
  
He decided on a compromise: a button-up, with jeans, instead of slacks.  He’d be lying if he denied that he was wearing the jeans because they were more form-fitting than the slacks.  His hair he left alone, and he reminded himself not to play with it too much.  
  
He’d already texted Sora with the place that Namine had recommended.  It was a local bar and grill, with a partition between the bar and the dining area.  Riku wondered what the convention was, for this.  Drink at the bar?  Have dinner, too?  He spotted Sora’s messy hair, already at the bar, though, and let out a sigh of relief that he didn’t have to make that decision.  
  
“Popcorn?” Sora asked, offering Riku the bowl of it once Riku had taken a seat.  Riku glanced at the glass already in front of Sora: it was still mostly full.  
  
“Ah, thanks.  Did you just get here?”  
  
Sora nodded.  “Just long enough to get my drink.  I would’ve ordered for you, but I didn’t know what you’d like.”  Riku’s breath caught, and he was glad that Sora had turned his attention to waving down the bartender.  
  
Riku immediately chided himself.  Sora was just being courteous.  Riku ordered his drink, and let out a self-deprecating laugh.  “It’s been a while since I had anything stronger than espresso,” he admitted, once it was placed in front of him.  
  
Sora chuckled.  “So, you’re probably due for one, right?”  
  
Riku felt his lips turn up in a strained smile.  “Yeah, I suppose so.”  
  
He’d only just wrapped his hand around the glass when Sora remarked, “I think this is the first time I’ve seen your hair down.  I didn’t realize it was so long.”  
  
“Uh.”  Riku abandoned his glass in favor of pushing his hair behind an ear, and then grimaced.  That was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid.  Anyway, Riku was used to hearing such comments.  It was not like Sora had complimented him, really.  “It’s easier to manage.  For school.”  
  
Sora grinned and ran hand through his own hair.  “I can’t even imagine having hair that long.  It suits you, though.”  
  
“T-thank you.”  Riku gripped his glass, and took a long draw from it.  He savored the warmth traveling down his throat to his stomach, and finally allowed himself to look at Sora.  He, too, had gone with jeans—Riku mourned the shapely calves that were now hidden beneath the fabric—and paired it with a t-shirt with aesthetically pleasing graphics.  It was, compared to his normal clothing, dressed up.  
  
Riku tried not to read into that.  
  
Sora was a fun companion, Riku decided, halfway through their second round of drinks. His complaints about the school and the students were good-natured, with room for Riku to chip in with his own experiences.  He’d launched into a story from college when they ordered a third round, and Riku found himself admiring the way his blue eyes sparkled, and the lively gestures that accompanied the story.  
  
And that smile.  God, this had been a bad idea, because if Riku had been infatuated with Sora’s smile before, he’d now fallen in love with it.  Actually, he thought, he was in love with Sora’s mouth in general, and wanted to know how his lips would feel against Riku’s own, and if he’d be able to taste the flavor of Sora’s drink past the taste of alcohol in his own mouth.  
  
It had, as Riku said, been a long while since he’d had a drink, and he was a lightweight to begin with.  He’d thought to stop after the second drink, but he was feeling good, and it was nice to enjoy Sora’s company.  And anyway, he was already feeling more confident in himself.  
  
“Hey, Sora,” he said suddenly, “are you seeing anyone, right now?”  
  
Sora’s brow furrowed, and that was a cute look.  “Nah.  It’s been a bit hectic, with graduating and starting work here, you know?  I didn’t know where I was going to find work, and I didn’t want to make someone else have to rearrange their life around mine.”  
  
“Good, that’s good.”  Riku knew he was smiling as he settled his elbow on the bar, leaning towards Sora.  “You know, you kind of remind me of the square root of two.”  
  
Sora blinked.  “Oh yeah?  Why?  You know, I told you I’m not great at math—”  
  
Riku’s smile stretched into a grin.  “Because I feel irrational around you.”  
  
Sora broke into a laugh—a giggle?—and tilted his head towards Riku conspiratorially.  “You sure it’s not the alcohol?”  
  
“I’m sure it’s not.”  He propped his chin on his hand to look at Sora.  If his head felt a little light, maybe that was from the alcohol.  Maybe it was from the person in front of him. Probably a little of both.  “They’re tangential to each other,” Riku murmured, “the alcohol and being around you, taking me in the same direction.”  Yeah, he was definitely irrational.  He felt warm and languid, and full of possibilities, and Sora’s lips were so close.  
  
So inviting.  
  
Sora’s cheeks were pink, and maybe that was the alcohol, too.  His smile was lopsided.  “You’re just teasing me, with all that math stuff.”  His blue eyes were bright.  
  
Riku’s mind was fuzzy, everything bright, but he knew he wasn’t teasing.  “I’m not.”  He had to slide off the bar stool to close the distance between them.  Forward momentum, and gravity, and all of that, and he pressed his lips to Sora’s, sliding his hand to cup Sora’s cheek.  He had to bend a little to do it, even with Sora sitting on the bar stool, and he liked that, and he liked the way Sora’s lips were pliant against his own.  
  
But—  
  
Sora had a hand on his chest, pushing him gently away.  Blue eyes wide.  “Riku…”  The chiding tone sent Riku’s stomach plummeting.  His cheeks were hot and it wasn’t from the alcohol, in fact, he felt sober, suddenly.  He took a step back, giving Sora the space that the hand on his chest demanded.  
  
“I—”  He was mortified.  He tried again.  “Sora, I—”  
  
He couldn’t read the expression on Sora’s face.  “I think maybe you drank a little too much.”  
  
Riku felt his breath catch in his throat.  Sora wasn’t wrong.  Riku pressed a hand over his eyes.  “Yeah.  Yeah, you’re right.”  He drew his hand down to pinch the bridge of his nose.  “I’m sorry.”  He couldn’t bring himself to look up at Sora, and instead fished his wallet out of his pocket.  He counted out some cash—enough to cover the tab for both of them—and set it on the bar, before spinning on his heel.  
  
He hadn’t made a step before Sora’s hand closed around his wrist, warm.  “You shouldn’t drive.”  
  
Riku didn’t turn.  “I won’t.”  He pulled away, and Sora let him.  
  
The distance between the bar and the door was short, indistinct and oppressive in the face of what he’d just done, but it was a point of pride that he didn’t stumble, despite how unbalanced he felt.  
  
Outside, it was cooler, the air almost crisp with a hint of fall, and he gulped in deep breaths of it.  
  
He’d done it.  He’d ruined it, before it had even begun.  Sora would never smile at him again, not even in the capacity of a friend, and the best that Riku could hope for, now, was that no one else would find out about his gaffe.  
  
He let his hands fall limp at his sides, and took a deep breath.  Riku turned his feet towards his apartment and started walking.  He would get his car in the morning.  Walking was better.  It cleared his head, and sobered him, and the activity tired him, physically, so that when he made it to his door, and then his bed, he was able to collapse and fall asleep.  
  
He didn’t want to ever wake up.  
  
But he did, and it was to the sound of his phone ringing.  He fumbled for it—the name was blurry, and he groped for his glasses, only to let the phone fall to the bed when he saw Sora’s name across the screen.  
  
Of course.  Sora was a nice guy.  He’d check to make sure Riku had made it home.  With a groan, Riku turned over, ignoring it.  He could try to pretend the night before had ever happened, but he knew it was impossible.  Sora would see him alive and well the next day at the school, and then he’d be satisfied, and they wouldn’t have to talk again.  It would be life as it had been, before he had even met Sora.  
  
He thought again of Sora’s smile, and hugged his comforter tighter over his shoulders.


	5. Part 5

Monday dawned gray and rainy.

Riku supposed it was fitting, given his mood. He huddled under an umbrella as he walked from the parking lot to the school building, and pretended he didn't see or hear Sora calling out a from few steps behind him.

But he couldn't ignore the hand that wrapped around his arm a few steps from the door, cold and wet from the rain. "Riku, I was calling you!"

Riku took a deep breath, steeling himself. "I didn't hear you." Riku twisted out of Sora's grip. "Look, I'm sorry. About Saturday. Just forget about it." He gave Sora one last lingering look—he was frowning, his brow furrowed, his hair drooping from the rain, and it was cute, but it was obvious he was upset. Riku gave himself a mental kick and repeated, "I'm sorry." He turned back to the door, and when Sora tried to grab his arm again, he shook him off. "I have work to do," he muttered, without turning back to Sora.

If he gave Sora the cold shoulder, he would stop trying to be nice. Or so Riku hoped. He wasn't sure if he could handle Sora's friendliness when he'd practically forced himself on Sora. He certainly didn't deserve it.

Riku hid in his classroom for most of the day. It was easy to deal with students, to arrange numbers and graphs on the board, and answer questions. To fill the columns of his grade book. He knew Sora would be able to find him there, so perhaps it wasn't the best place to hide, but at least it was his space. He wondered if he could calculate the time it would take for him to forget the feeling of Sora's lips on his own—unwilling, and yet Riku couldn't help but like it, anyway, and he thought that probably made him an awful person.

But human thoughts and emotions were impossible to express in numbers. Guilt couldn't be quantified, and Sora's kindness might not be a continuous function.

And yet, Sora was still predictable, appearing at his door shortly after the commotion of students leaving for the day had subsided. Riku had half-expected it, and yet he was unprepared. He was caught between the thrill of butterflies and the lump of guilt, both vying for attention, and he couldn't suppress a sigh.

"Riku?"

Riku stood up, packing his bag. "I was just leaving."

"Riku, can I just talk to you?"

Riku focused on collecting his jacket and umbrella. "There's nothing to talk about." He shouldered his bag. "You don't have to keep being nice to me." He stepped toward the door, intending to brush past Sora, but Sora blocked his path.

Sora sighed in exasperation. "Will you just listen to me!"

The force in Sora's voice, more than anything, caught Riku's attention, and he finally looked at Sora. He was frowning, his arms crossed, and Riku wondered if Sora was actually more irritated with him than he'd thought. Sora was smaller than him, but he held himself in a way that spoke of power and confidence. It was a quality he liked about Sora, a contrast to his own wavering confidence.

"You keep apologizing, trying to brush off what happened, but I can't do that."

Riku froze, and he felt his stomach drop. Had he overestimated Sora's nature? "I—" He tightened his grip on his bag. "Then—"

"No," Sora shook his head, "I should be the one apologizing."

Riku blinked.

Sora turned his eyes to the ground. "I should've followed you to make sure you were alright."

Riku stared. "As you see, I'm fine."

"Are you?" Sora peered up at him through his eyelashes, and Riku felt it like a stab in his heart.

"I…" But he couldn't bring himself to say anything. He was sure his grip on his bag was white-knuckled by now, his face red with embarrassment. He looked away, avoiding Sora's gaze.

Sora's voice softened. "I wasn't expecting it."

Riku shifted his weight. "I didn't mean to." Well, that wasn't quite right. "You were right. I had too much to drink."

"When I said that…" Sora's voice trailed off, and he scuffed a foot on the floor. "When I said that," and this time his voice was stronger, "I meant myself." Riku's eyes snapped up at that, and was caught in an intense stare. His heart stuttered.

No. No, Sora wasn't saying what Riku hoped he was saying. That look didn't mean what Riku hoped it meant. Sora just meant that he'd been confused because he was intoxicated. Riku sighed in resignation. "Sora, stop." _Stop making me have hope._

Sora brought a hand up and ran it through his hair, dropping his gaze. "I guess…you know, I'm really bad at this. But I wasn't sure, you know? If you were…" Sora pursed his lips. "I guess I should've made myself clear that it was supposed to be a date."

"Then why did you push me away?" It came out so quickly that Riku couldn't stop the heat in his voice. Hurt, and anger, rushing to the surface as the words Sora said gained meaning.

Sora flinched, perhaps surprised by Riku's response. "That's why I wanted to apologize. For pushing you away like that. I just—I've had bad experiences in the past, with alcohol. I didn't want to do anything either of us might regret."

Sora fidgeted as Riku gave him a measuring look. Was he really hearing this? Sora's expression was open, earnest. Perhaps a bit nervous, under Riku's scrutiny. Riku thought, for a moment, what something they might regret could be, a thought that made him bite his lip.

"So, I'm sorry. Do you think you could give me another chance?"

Riku's mind was racing. If it had been a date…if it had been a date, it had been perfect, up until Sora had pushed him away. He didn't want to do that again. "No."

Sora's lips drew up in a pout, and Riku stared at them, remembered the texture of them against his own lips.

"No, I mean—" He had to be sure, this time. "You don't need a another—I just want to kiss you!" Riku closed his mouth and took a step back at his own audacity.

"Oh." Sora broke into a grin. "Well, I'd be happy to let you, this time." He followed Riku's retreat, closing the distance between them until he could take Riku's free hand. "But you know," he mused, "I still want to have a proper date with you."

Riku's pulse was racing, and he was drowning in blue eyes. "I—yeah." He let Sora draw him closer, until all he had to do was incline his head to meet those lips. They were soft and warm and silky, and he could feel Sora's breath coming as fast as his own. Sora had initiated the kiss, this time, but Riku still was afraid he'd pull away, so he wrapped his arm around Sora's waist, bag still in hand, holding him there.

But Sora was already deepening the kiss on his own, and Riku wondered if he was dreaming this.

A knock at the door—still ajar—startled them apart, and Riku decided it wasn't a dream, if Aqua's raised eyebrows were any indication.

"When people say 'Get a room,' the usually don't mean a _classroom_ ," Aqua said pointedly. "I won't say anything, but next time remember where you are."

Riku was too flustered to respond, but Sora was giving Aqua a big grin. "Yes, ma'am!"


End file.
